


Want The World To See

by bestintheworld



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7224310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestintheworld/pseuds/bestintheworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are ways to conduct yourself when you're in the spotlight, to portray your public image in an inoffensive way, more palatable for a general audience. Sneaky and Meteos have never been good at this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want The World To See

**Author's Note:**

> They say to be the fics you want to see in the world, and I want more established sneaky/meteos, so I made some. Everyone please do the same. Please.

Sneaky follows the calls, one after the other. Look mid, look Viktor, Viktor Viktor Viktor Gragas is stunned Gragas Gragas nice look Sivir I’m dead you’ve got it kill Sivir yes fuck yes! And just like that there’s no targets left, the teamfight is over. The majority of the enemy team is on the ground, with one notable exception.

“Where’s Fiora!?”

The ace banner flashes up on the screen and Jensen has the decency to only sound a little smug. “Stopped her TP.”

“End bot, holy shit.” Meteos gives that call, being one of the friendly casualities, Graves’ body among the pile currently filling the river below mid. Jensen’s teleport channels on the minion line already attempting to win the game as Sneaky navigates Caitlyn the long way down. The win is a foregone conclusion with the game gone as long as it has, and the comms degenerate as the two surviving members go through the motions.

“God that was fucking shitty, fuck Fiora man.” Bunny whines, though he still sounds giddy. Sneaky can relate. He always feels some vindictive pride at coming back from bot lane TP clusterfucks, and this one had been massive.

“That was so fucking good, Sneaky. What a god.” Meteos has a smirk in his voice, but Sneaky knows when he’s being sincere. And to be fair, he had been pretty fucking good. Impact hums his agreement.

Meteos continues, “We’re all voting Sneaky MVP, right?” Sneaky huffs a laugh when Jensen squawks in protest.

“What the fuck, dude? I soloed-”

“Okay how about we just all vote for whoever popped the fattest crit on Gragas’ dumb ass in that last fight?”

Sneaky speaks up for the first time in the last few minutes, in a heavily affected voice, “Do not think it works like that, good sir.”

“Okay well we can just vote for whoever had the biggest crit overall, but then I might win-”

“Don’t think we get to vote at all.”

“What the fuck? Then how am I supposed to tell everyone you had the Most Valuable Penis?”

Jensen groans as he pulls another blue card. “I believe the rule is ‘no flirting in game’? C’mon guys.” Sneaky grins at the well-worn complaint.

“Hey man, I didn’t say anything-”

“No he’s right dude. No flirting in game.” Meteos says with something akin to a serious tone. But just like Sneaky can tell when Meteos is being honest, he can tell when he’s full of shit too, and that one short statement has Sneaky already anticipating some retribution in Jensen’s very near future.

The nexus finally explodes and Sneaky leans back, relieved. Bunny offers him a ecstatic fistbump that he’s glad to reciprocate, before Sneaky turns and catches the end of Meteos and Impact doing the same. The whole team has a bubbly energy, satisfied for a job well done together.

Meteos stands, from some sort of communication with Jensen that Sneaky hadn’t managed to catch. Jensen slumps down in his chair, looking resigned to his fate, as Meteos makes sudden, intense eye contact with Sneaky himself. Meteos is wearing a purposeful poker face as he steps around the stage toward him, and Sneaky makes the call to stand too, ready to go along with whatever stupid plan Meteos has managed to concoct.

Meteos opens his arms wide. A hug? Hugs aren’t exactly the most commonplace in Cloud 9, but they’re fairly common in most of the other teams, nothing most people would give much of a shit about at all. But if a hug is Meteos’ idea of flirting, Sneaky’s more than willing. He copies Meteos’ stance and makes to go for an over-the-top embrace.

The instant Meteos touches him, though, Sneaky realizes that he, too, has been severely pranked. One of Meteos’ arms circles around the small of Sneaky’s back, while the other holds his shoulders tightly, and suddenly he’s being dipped backwards like a swooning bride in a corny movie. Sneaky reacts on instinct, both his arms flinging themselves around Meteos’ neck tightly to stop himself from falling on his ass.

The crowd shrieks, laughter ringing through the theater. Meteos’ self satisfied grin is very close to Sneaky’s face. This is where the joke can end, Sneaky realizes. They paint a funny picture to the crowd, he’s sure. But Meteos’ smiling face fades into a question, and Sneaky thinks about how they’ve talked about this. How Meteos is tired of hiding his affection in sarcasm, how Sneaky is tired of answering every question with a forced laugh. How Jack’s been supporting them making some sort of open statement, but no time has ever felt right, and especially not now, when weathering the fallout of something like that feels like unbearable stress on top of the long, long hours of working to make their new team.

And then Sneaky thinks, fuck. He’s just played a bullshit fucking game against a bullshit fucking champ, and he’d managed to beat all their asses anyway, and he’d really like to kiss his fucking boyfriend right now. So he does.

It’s easy to reach up into the short hair on the back of Meteos’ hair and pull him in to the kiss, easier still for their lips to meet with care. Meteos, for his part, doesn’t hesitate in responding at all. They move together in what Sneaky’s sure is clearly practiced motion, any awkwardness between them is years gone at this point.

Sneaky tilts his head, deepening the kiss just that fraction more, and Meteos follows, making a noise in response, somewhere between a hum and moan. At that, though, there’s suddenly a chorus of pointed coughs around Sneaky and he’s brought back to the situation at hand, remembers where they are and just how many people are likely watching.

He opens his eyes and pulls back, and gets just a moment to appreciate the lovestruck look on Meteos’ face, wide and open in a way he rarely is, before it’s gone and Meteos is helping him up from his semi-reclined position. The shouts and cheers of the crowd are absolutely deafening as Sneaky gives the camera on them a bashful wave.

Bunny, who’s apparently been standing in the way of the frustrated looking camera operator, gets their attention before pointing across the theater. Impact and Jensen are waiting at the end of the aisle, looking amused and annoyed respectively, and the entirety of TSM are craning their necks trying to get a view of the hold up.

“Let’s go lads” Bunny chuckles, “we’re holding up production.”

He herds the two of them over to the traditional handshakes, where none of TSM look too terribly broken up, the majority of them poorly hiding smiles when Sneaky meets each of them. Turtle gives them both earnest congratulations, his kind eyes somehow difficult to look at for too long.

When they come around to the crowd, the noise level increases again, louder than Sneaky’s ever heard it in this small area at what’s ostensibly a regular game. He can’t pick out any of the particular things they shout at him, but he can guess. The general tone, though, seems overwhelmingly happy, wide grins on the face of every person he touches hands with.

The team regroups on stage to gather up their stuff, and Sneaky’s still hyper aware of the camera following him. He’s not sure what they expect to see, when Meteos’ desk isn’t even near him, and he works to behave as though everything’s normal, wrapping up his keyboard quickly so they can get off stage as soon as possible.

Backstage, the team mills around, rejoined by Reapered, Robin, Smoothie, and Jack. The team owner claps Sneaky on the shoulder.

“You couldn’t make things easy for me, huh?” Jack laughs.

Sneaky doesn’t have a response, can only manage a faint “uhhh”

Jack laughs again. “Don’t worry about it. I’m proud of you both. We can handle the press later.”

Sneaky looks to Meteos, who looks as relieved as Sneaky feels.

Jack looks like he wants to say more, but he’s interrupted by Zirene walking up to their group tentatively.

“Hey, we’re ready for the postgame.” He darts his eyes between Sneaky and Meteos and Jack, who’s positioned himself protectively between Zirene and themselves. “Do you think we could get you both?”

Meteos laughs tonelessly. “That wouldn’t exactly be about the game, would it?”

“I- I can avoid any topic you’d rather not talk about.” Zirene backpedals. “Or I can take someone else? Jensen?” Jensen looks up at his name, only to take in the situation and wave his hand dismissively.

“No no, take the lover boys, that’s what the fans wanna see, right?”

“I mean...” Zirene looks uncomfortable enough for Sneaky to take pity.

“Nah, it’s fine, I can do it.” Meteos makes a face at him, eyebrows raised, and Sneaky shrugs back.

“Yeah, me too, ask whatever.”

They get situated stageside while the next team sets up their equipment. It all feels a little more awkward than normal, the setup not intended to accommodate multiple people being interviewed.

Zirene, to his credit, does ask about the game, about their preparation, their confidence of picks, their macro play, and both Meteos and Sneaky give answers to the best of their ability, all three of them knowing not much useful information can be given on any of these topics in so short a time.

“So finally. I don’t think anyone was expecting that postgame celebration.” Meteos scoffs as Zirene continues. “I think we’re all surprised for there to be a couple in the LCS-” Meteos cuts him off.

“I don’t know why they would be surprised, every team has like two and half couples.” Sneaky snickers.

“I mean, you know,” Zirene flounders, “like, uh. Not, numerical couples. But. Uh.” Meteos doesn’t budge. Zirene offers the mic to Sneaky, looking vaguely desperate.

“We’re dating, yeah, if that’s what you’re asking.” The crowd erupts again as Meteos feigns sudden understanding.

“Oh yeah, that. Didn’t everyone already know?” Zirene chuckles at that one.

“Well if they didn’t, they certainly do now.” Sneaky feels his face heat as Zirene goes through the motions of ending the interview. The camera turns away and he thanks them both, walking them back to the team’s waiting room.

“The fan meet is set for 20 minutes from now, you guys can just chill here until then.” Jack says before walking off, probably to set something else up. Meteos settles into a seat next to Bunny and Jensen, Sneaky sits opposite them.

“Nice interview,” Jensen jests at them. “So like, for real guys. Could you not have at least waited until after tomorrow’s game?” Bunny and Robin both laugh.

Meteos leans back easily. “You gave me no choice, Yensen. Had to get back at you somehow. What better way than stealing your spotlight?” Sneaky laughs along this time as Jensen sputters.

“Well, I guess there’s a good side to all this.” Jensen pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through something. “I can finally use the blackmail I’ve been saving up. What do you think, Sneaky, this one?”

Jensen turns the phone toward him and Sneaky can’t keep the surprise off his face. It’s a picture of himself and Meteos, on the plane to Korea some weeks ago. It’s clearly been taken from between two seats, the photographer doing his best not to be detected. Picture-Sneaky is asleep, slack-jawed, his head pillowed on Meteos’ shoulder. What’s noteworthy, though, is Meteos’ face. He’s gazing down at him with that look again, that absolutely smitten look, and Sneaky’s glad Jensen hasn’t posted this before now, because there’s no way anyone looking at that would be able to mistake it for anything but complete head-over-heels love.

When Sneaky doesn’t respond quickly enough, Jensen turns the phone to Meteos with a shit eating grin. Meteos does react, by immediately lunging at Jensen and grabbing for the phone.

“Give me- oof- give me that phone you little shit!”

Jensen fights him off, laughing and desperately begging for help. “Bunnyyyyy! Save meeee!”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Seems like you deserve it.” Bunny exchanges a look with Sneaky and they both break out laughing again. Sneaky’s suddenly overcome with relief. He may have done something fucking stupid, and he’s sure they’ll have to deal with repercussions later, but right now, laughing with his team, he can’t find it in himself to regret it at all.


End file.
